


Queer Black Self Indulgent Self-Insert

by Anonymous



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Not Beta Read, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21764899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This story is mostly just my queer as hell black nonbinary self insert dealing with life and mental issues in the twilight universe in place of bella as a form of coping and self exploration.
Relationships: Edythe Cullen/ Original Character, Edythe Cullen/Bella Swan
Kudos: 22
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is unbeta'd unplanned and self indulgent. I have a tendency to confuse my tenses a lot. I reluctantly accept gentle constructive criticism.

I’m so tired of having to do this. I’m so tired of having to be this. I wish I didn’t constantly have to be the one to make the tough decisions. I’m her child, I shouldn’t have had to be the one to remind her to pay bills or be the one to use my birthday money to cover them when she still forgets. I shouldn’t have had to learn how to file her taxes at 8 years old because she refused to get an accountant. And now I have to make another sacrifice, I have to leave the place I know as home and leave my few friends behind, because I can’t stop letting her be the child, I can never bring myself to make her make tough choices and deal with the consequences of them.

I keep doing this. I keep letting her take over my life and she doesn’t even notice because I’ve always let it happen. So I’ll do what I always do, whichever option is easiest for her and whichever option makers her the happiest. So I’ll pack my things and say goodbye and cry like I’m not doing this to myself. Like I’m not enabling the very things I resent her for.

She cried as I left, I wiped her tears, hugged her and felt nothing but resentment at feeling like I needed to comfort her instead of be comforted.

* * *

Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser outside, I cared about him but the likely suffocating awkwardness of living with someone I barely knew but cared deeply about was going to eat me alive. I was grateful but I still hoped that the money I had saved up could buy me a clunker at least; being driven to school in the cruiser would only make me more noticeable than I already was as the white sheriff’s black adopted daughter

We hugged, he held me tight but cautiously as if he thought that if he squeezed too hard I would run or disappear altogether. 

“It’s great to see you CJ. How’s Renee?”

“She’s fine, Dad. How have you been?” I tried not to call him Charlie to his face, it would only make the disconnect between us all the more apparent. 

“I’ve been pretty okay, I’ve got a surprise for you.” He said as we loaded my stuff into the trunk. It didn’t take long. I only had a suitcase and duffle bag with a jacket inside. Most of what I owned would be useless in the Washington cold, the rest was just sentimentals. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s a surprise.”

We drove to Forks in silence, while the radio played. It was nice. That was the good thing about Charlie,I didn’t feel like I needed to make small talk or appease him, all he needed was for me to be there. 

* * *

As we pulled up to the house, I saw a car parked outside. I desperately hoped he hadn’t invited anyone over for a surprise “Welcome Home” party. I didn’t feel like I could entertain anyone enough to not seem rude. 

He’d been smiling progressively wider and brighter as we’d gotten closer to the house, by the time he’d put the car in park he was practically giddy. He hopped out of the car and I followed slowly after.

“So what do ya think?” He asked gesturing toward a rust red truck that looked older than he was, if well cared for.

“It's a nice car, whose is it?”

He swept his arms open excitedly. “It’s yours. It used to belong to my friend Billy Black, he’s in a wheelchair now. Him and his son fixed it up for you.”

“Thank you so much! I’ve been saving up to buy a car forever.” I was truly grateful for the gift, it was a beautiful truck. I was struggling to bring up the enthusiasm, I could barely muster a smile. I just couldn’t bring myself to feel anything.

It didn’t take long to get all my stuff upstairs and settled in my room. I sat down on my bed waiting for tears to come but not even one escaped my eye. I wasn’t sure if i didn’t truly feel sad or i needed an SSRI, but that was a question for another day. Now was for me to try to stop thinking and sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up early for school for school that day and sighed. I was already exasperated about dealing with people at school and in town, being one if the at most 10 brown people in a town as small as forks was going to be a trip at best. I hoped my dysphoria wouldn’t be too bad today with all the people deadnaming me.

As I pulled into the school parking lot and found the closest parking space I could; I laid my head against the steering wheel, pulled at the strings of my black hoodie, closed my eyes and breathed to myself.

“Here goes nothing.” 

Navigating my way to the front office I walked up to the receptionist, when she looked at me her face lit up immediately recognizing me as the chief’s only child. 

“You must be Isabella Swan.” She said as she looked me up and down, pausing on my very brown face.

“Yeah that’s me, but please everyone calls me CJ. Do you happen to know where i can get my schedule and a map?” I said as I tucked a braid behind my ear. I just wanted this interaction to be over with.

“Oh! Here sweetheart we’ve been expecting you.” 

She then pulled out a folder from under her desk. Inside was my class list and a map with color coded paths, she wished me the best of luck and sent me on my way.

First on the list was English with Mr.Mason 

  
  


Here we go.

* * *

Mr.Mason's class was… something. The only potentially interesting thing, if definitely annoying, was Eric and his inquisition. The dozen or so questions that basically amounted to why are you brown and are you single that he asked as he helped me find my way to my next class really set a tone for the rest of the day. 

Every class after that basically functioned the same way, come in, talk to the teacher, and try to ignore the stares, rinse, repeat.

The only real difference was Jessica, who I had Trig and Spanish with and had finally psyched herself up to ask whatever it is she’s been wanting to ask me all day.

“Hey! you’re Isabella Swan, right?” she asked despite definitely knowing the answer, but I suppose every conversation had to start somewhere.

“Call me CJ. You’re Jessica, right?”

“Yep, that’s me. I know you’re new here and I was wondering if you wanted to sit with me and my friends at lunch?” 

“Sure.” Why not? At least it would be better than sitting alone in whatever hidden corner I could find.


End file.
